


maybe one day

by loserlesbian



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Beverly Marsh is a Good Friend, Canon Compliant, Coming Out, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, POV Beverly Marsh, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-IT (2017), Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, Swearing, Underage Smoking, background bill/bev/ben love triangle, being gay in a hammock, but i'm sure you knew that bc it's richie, it's def not one-sided tho, it's not really mentioned but it was important to me that you knew that, like after pennywise but before the blood oath, overuse of commas cause idk grammar, talk of abusive parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 08:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21424954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loserlesbian/pseuds/loserlesbian
Summary: "He looked up. Glanced around the clubhouse nervously, like he was checking to see if anyone was watching him. Them. He must have just missed Bev because she was certain that Richie wouldn’t have done what he did if he had known that Beverly was looking.Richie ducked down and pressed a featherlight kiss to the crown of Eddie’s head. It lasted for about five seconds, before he just pressed his nose into Eddie’s hair, seemingly basking in temporary freedom to do as he pleased without fear that someone, someone who wasn’t as kind as Beverly, seeing. It was like he was breathing Eddie in, cherishing their closeness, and Beverly thought longingly for someone to act this gently with her. She thought about Bill, about Ben, about January embers, and inwardly sighed.As if sensing her frustration, Richie’s eyes fluttered open, and he glanced up. Their eyes met from across the clubhouse."Beverly realizes Richie's feelings for Eddie. They have a smoke together.
Relationships: Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 13
Kudos: 204





	maybe one day

**Author's Note:**

> my first fic is reddie ofc. i love these dorks so much. 
> 
> i hope anyone who comes across this enjoys it! i've written fics before, but this is the first time i've actually decided to post one! if you'd like more reddie, stick around cause i'm sure this won't be the last reddie fic. 
> 
> (also sorry if there are any mistakes i missed, i've been over it like three times, but you never know)

Sunlight filtered in through the cracks of the clubhouse door, allowing dust mites to collect, spiraling into the air and putting on a show for anyone bored enough to watch. Beverly could hear the sounds of an enthusiastic game of cards between Bill, Mike, and Stan coming from the far right corner of the clubhouse; the sounds of subdued banging of a hammer from where Ben was making adjustments to one of the pillars for the one hundredth time. Under that noise was the sound of the radio playing some random song that was currently popular amongst the general public, and under _ that _ noise, Bev could hear someone softly snoring, coming from the direction of the hammock.

Eddie and Richie had taken control of the hammock yet again, though this time, instead of arguing over whose turn it was, both of them had slipped in, side by side, and shared a comic book between them. Beverly looked up from the magazine she had been flipping through, twisting her head around one of the clubhouse’s many pillars to see the comic book lay forgotten between the two boys. Eddie was snoozing in the hammock, curled up against Richie’s side. One hand was clenched tightly in his obnoxious Hawaiian shirt, and his head was resting between Richie’s neck and shoulder, his mouth parted just slightly.

Bev drew her eyes up a bit to see Richie looking down at Eddie, the softest gaze she’s ever seen come from the usually closed off boy, the boy who acted as if he was only capable of making dirty jokes and messing around. His eyes were sparkling as they danced across Eddie’s sleeping face, as if they were drinking him in, counting all the tiny freckles that were more prominent in the summer sun. 

One hand carded through Eddie’s hair, brushing his fingers ever so softly through it, like he was afraid that if his pulled too hard, the sleeping boy would be startled awake. There was a faint blush painting Richie’s pale cheeks, something that shocked Beverly. Richie never blushed, was never embarrassed by anything. It’s kind of hard to be flustered by anything when you’re known to have no filter. 

Seeing Richie like this was… odd. Confusing. She almost looked away, as if the moment was too private for her peering eyes. Bev didn’t understand; she’s never seen a boy look at another boy like this before. She wondered what Richie was thinking at this moment.

He looked up. Glanced around the clubhouse nervously, like he was checking to see if anyone was watching him. Them. He must have just missed Bev because she was certain that Richie wouldn’t have done what he did if he had known that Beverly was looking.

Richie ducked down and pressed a featherlight kiss to the crown of Eddie’s head. It lasted for about five seconds, before he just pressed his nose into Eddie’s hair, seemingly basking in temporary freedom to do as he pleased without fear that someone, someone who wasn’t as kind as Beverly, seeing. It was like he was breathing Eddie in, cherishing their closeness, and Beverly thought longingly for someone to act this gently with her. She thought about Bill, about Ben, about _ January embers_, and inwardly sighed.

As if sensing her frustration, Richie’s eyes fluttered open, and he glanced up. Their eyes met from across the clubhouse.

Richie jerked back from where he was resting against Eddie. He was frozen in the hammock, but Beverly could see the panic in his eyes as he held his breath. Everything about him was stiff; he was so still that Beverly almost winced in sympathy at how uncomfortable that position must be, especially in the hammock. 

His eyes glistened, unshed tears forming. Suddenly, it hit Bev like a freight train. Richie liked little Eddie Kaspbrak. _ Like_, liked him. Like how a boy was supposed to like girls.

A pain shot through her chest, and she once again wished desperately that she didn’t have to leave her newfound friends behind when she moves to Portland in a few weeks. 

Richie looked about a second away from bolting, so Beverly flashed him the sweetest, most comforting smile she could muster, before lifting a hand to zip her lips, lock them, and throw away the key. She winked at him, just to let him know that his secret was safe with her.

Beverly could practically see the relief flood through his whole body, causing his shoulders to collapse and the tightening in his body to relax. He smiled gratefully, body shaking slightly as he mouthed the words _ thank you, thank you, thank you_, over and over until she laughed quietly and shook her head.

She looked down at her forgotten magazine, eyes barely focusing on the cheesy photos on the page before she glanced up again to see Richie relaxing back into the hammock, his arm still wrapped firmly around Eddie’s shoulders, staring intently at the ceiling of the clubhouse. For the second time that day, Beverly felt herself wonder what Richie Tozier was thinking. 

***

When Eddie woke to the beeping of his calculator watch that was usually used to remind him to take his meds, he scrambled out of the hammock. Clumsily slipping his shoes back on, Eddie’s mouth moved a mile a minute, frantically stating that if he wasn’t home in fifteen minutes his mom would send a search party for him, ground him when he arrived home, and then Eddie wouldn’t be able to see the Losers for the rest of the summer. 

Richie stood as well, surprisingly more graceful than Eddie had (as his limbs were awkwardly too long for his body; he’ll grow into them someday, it was just hard to maneuver them the way he wanted at times), and the two of them made their way out of the clubhouse, shouting their goodbyes at the others.

Beverly had wandered out of the clubhouse minutes before Richie and Eddie had for a quick smoke, and threw the two of them a quick grin as Eddie leaned down to pick up his bike. 

“You gonna ride home with me?” Eddie asked when he noticed Richie hadn’t picked up his bike from where it lay on the leaves that have already begun to fall to the ground. 

Richie sneaked a glance at Beverly, who was acting as if she wasn’t listening to their conversation, and instead focusing on blowing smoke rings into the air. “Nah,” he said, flashing Eddie a quick grin when he frowned. “Imma stay here for a bit and have a smoke. You go ahead, don’t want to keep Mrs. K waiting.”

Eddie nodded, looking slightly dejected if Bev said so herself. He started walking his bike up the dirt path they’ve made from frequently biking down here. 

“Leave your window unlocked, Spaghetti!” Richie called out, prompting Eddie to throw up his middle finger, not even bothering to look back.

Once Eddie was out of view, Richie slowly moved over to where Beverly was leaning against a tree, her cigarette held loosely between her fingers. Wordlessly, she held one out for Richie, and handing him her Zippo so he could light it himself. 

Together, the two silently smoked, the sun beating down on them from an area between the trees. Beverly let him take his time, inhaling the nicotine to calm his anxieties. She wasn’t going to push him to tell her anything, just letting him collect his thoughts in the comfort of another person's company without having to actually say said thoughts out loud.

Richie slowly blew out a long string of smoke, and close his eyes. “So, I’m gay,” He said carefully. He glanced around empty woods, and then shook his head. “And I think I’m in love with Eddie.” 

Beverly nodded, taking a drag of her cig. Richie looked over at her, chewing on his bottom lip. She looked at the cigarette in her hand, rolling it between her fingers, mulling over everything she wanted to tell Richie in this very moment. Eventually she gave a small nod, noticing Richie’s distressed fidgeting. 

“Fuck,” Bev said, bringing the cig to her lips. “I really fuckin’ wish I wasn’t leaving for Portland so soon.” 

Her words seemed to throw Richie off. “What?” He asked, cocking his head to the side. Wild dark curls spilled over as he tilted his head. “Why? I thought you couldn’t wait to get the hell out of Derry?” 

Beverly let out a steady breath, smoke filtering up into the air around them. “I _ do _ want to get out of Derry. I just don’t want to leave all you guys behind in this shitty-ass town.”

Richie took a drag of his own cigarette, nodding in agreement. “Fuck this town.” 

Bev shifted her body, turning to face Richie. She smiled sadly, eyes soft and caring. “You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”

Richie shrugged, glancing down at his feet. His large coke bottle glasses slid down his long nose, resting halfway between the bridge and the tip. “Yeah, well… I was thinking about tellin’ Stan so… not alone…” He flashed a grin that seemed too bright for his body language. 

Beverly looked at her cigarette again, trying to hide her grim features from her friend. The last thing she needed was for Richie to think she pitied him or something, and then disappear on his bike and never bring this up again. 

“I’m kinda glad it’s you who knows though…” Richie said quietly, after about three minutes of silence. Beverly lifted her eyes to see Richie flipping the lid of Beverly’s Zippo to distract him of the seriousness in their conversation. Richie was shit at being serious, Beverly’s noticed. She thought back on all the jokes he made earlier in the summer, _ is she hot? _ ringing in her ears, and getting in fights with Bill instead of discussing It and going back to Neibolt.

Beverly stayed quiet, allowing Richie to continue at his own pace.

“It’s just… a part of me is glad I can finally breathe, not having this-this… dirty little secret, y’know?” Bev winced at his choice of words. Something told her that it wasn’t Richie himself who first said those words about his sexuality, or about his feelings for Eddie.

“Like… I don’t have to worry about how I act, ‘cause someone _ knows_, and I don’t have to hide around them. But there’s this other, smaller part of me that’s glad that it’s _ you _ who found out. ‘Cause you’ll be gone in two weeks, and I won’t have to worry about you telling someone or you not wanting to be friends anymore or you acting like everything’s just peachy keen, and then not talk to me ever again.”

Beverly sighed, and brought her cigarette to her lips. “It’s okay…” She said carefully. “I mean… I don’t get it. I’ll never get it. I can’t imagine how it must feel to constantly think everyone will hate you for something you can’t change about yourself. I just…” Bev took a drag of her cigarette angrily. “Fuck, I don’t want to leave you to handle this shit by yourself. You know if anything happens, just call me right? I’m leaving my aunt’s number for Bill and Ben already, I can leave it for you too—“

Richie let out a brisk laugh. “Thanks, Bev. You’re just an outright sweetheart, aren’t ya miss? But don’ worry ‘bout ol’ Richard Tozier, he’ll be mighty swell.” 

Bev giggled at his ridiculously awful Southern accent. She shook her head, dragging her eyes toward the cloudless sky above them. 

“He’ll miss ya like hell, though.” 

Beverly looked back toward Richie. His face was contorted like he was trying to hide his sadness with a smile, making it look more like a grimace. Beverly returned his melancholy grin with one of her own, and stubbed her cig out with her shoe. Slowly, Bev reached out to squeeze Richie’s shoulder, to which Richie’s body leaned into the touch, reveling in the soft human contact. Bev knew how he felt. She wished she could feel physical contact without wincing away, afraid that the touch wouldn’t end up being as innocent as it appeared.

“And she’ll miss ol’ Trashmouth as well.” 

Richie’s eyes were glossy with his unshed tears, and he cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets, leaving the burnt out cigarette between his lips. Bev plucked the cig from his mouth, and tossed to the floor, stubbing it out for good measure. 

“You’re… you’re a good guy, Miss Marsh,” Richie said, voice thick with emotion. “Never woulda thought that the one decent person in this town would leave so soon, but I guess it makes sense…” 

“Rich, you know the others won’t mind, right? They’ll still love you the same, there’s no doubt in my mind.” 

Richie nodded, though it was clear he didn’t believe her. He cleared his throat again, and turned his head to the side, looking down where Beverly had stomped out both of their cigarettes.

“I’m glad you’re gettin’ outta this shithole. You don’t deserve to be held back in this place.” 

Beverly squeezed his shoulder, and brought her hand up to brush the stray tear that was making its escape down his cheek. “You’ll get out too, someday. You don’t belong here, either. None of us do.” 

Richie nodded again, this time more firmly. “As if Eddie’s mom would even let him leave her sight for five minutes and let him be an independent person.” 

Beverly could sense the bitterness in his tone. She thought about how Eddie’s mom hadn’t allowed him to hang with them after he broke his arm, how he told them all about how his pills were placebos (_gazebos_) and convinced him that he was sick and fragile for his entire life. 

There was resentment in the scowl on Richie’s face, like he was angry at Mrs. K for everything she’s done to Eddie, and angry at what she’ll continue to do in the future. Bev was angry too, of course, Eddie was her friend, and while she never really got the chance to get to know him the way she wanted to (he was always attached to Richie’s hip) she was still upset for all the lies and pain Sonia Kaspbrak endured on her son. Though she knew that with Richie, his anger was like taking all the anger she felt, and amplifying it by a hundred. Because despite what Richie wants others to think, he feels so much and loves so much and cares so much for his friends, especially for Eddie Kaspbrak. 

Beverly supposed that she already knew that though, knew it before what she saw in the clubhouse and before Richie confessed to her. She knew that Richie’s feelings for Eddie were very different from what he felt for her or the other Losers. She was hit with the memory of the first time in Neibolt, Richie’s panicked _ look at me, Eddie look at me! _ and after, with his _ Eddie was nearly killed! _ His frantic _ holy shit, holy fuck! Holy shit! Holy shit! _as they escaped from Neibolt, all while making sure Eddie was safe and secure in the basket of Mike’s bike. 

Richie was always looking out for his friends. But Richie would rather lose his damn mind than let Eddie ever get hurt again. 

She knew that it was different than the way Eddie’s mother wanted to protect him, though. Richie knew how capable Eddie was, how strong and brave and how not fragile and delicate he was. He never treated Eddie like he was weak and breakable. In fact, he treated him quite the opposite. Richie teased him and joked with him, causing arguments between the two of them. He pushed Eddie over the edge, riled him up, proving that Eddie could defend himself. That he was strong enough to stand his ground.

Of course Richie knew he didn’t need protection. But that didn’t stop Richie from wanting to make sure he’s safe and uninjured, in the way you’re _ supposed _ to care and love someone. Beverly admires him because of it.

“Eddie’s stood up to her once…” Beverly started, but cut herself off. She didn’t know how to finish. Sure, you could stand up to your abuser once, but Beverly knows how hard that is. How hard it is to stand up for yourself in front of someone who’s meant to love you. She thinks back to her father, and suddenly realizes that she isn’t sure if she’d be able to stand up to him again if she had to. The thought deeply scares her.

Richie signs. “He shouldn’t have to. She’s his mother, and as much as I want to-to give her a piece of my mind for what she did to him all these years… Eddie still loves her. He feels guilty for being angry with her. I think that’s what upsets me the most.” 

Beverly felt a pang shoot through her heart, a wave of sympathy rush through her for Eddie. She hopes he can escape the abuse someday, like she has for now.

“Fuck her,” Beverly says roughly. “He has you. You love him the way he deserves.” 

A sharp intake of breath comes from Richie. Beverly senses that Richie hasn’t become used to the fact that he’s in love with his best friend. 

His next words were soft and full of pain, words that carried the tone that Richie has thought about this endlessly, constantly. “But… but what if he doesn’t want that?” 

His voice broke.

“What… what if Eddie can’t possibly stand the thought of me loving him… like _ that_?” 

Beverly pulled Richie in close, and held him tightly against her body. His shoulders shook with silent sobs, and Beverly just held him closer allowing him to let go for once. She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, afraid to say the wrong thing. The truth was, she had no idea how Eddie would react if he knew about Richie’s feelings, but there was a small part of her that said that he wouldn’t mind. That, maybe, he felt the same way too.

But Beverly didn’t say that to Richie. She didn’t want to give him hope, in case she was wrong. In case what he feared does become reality. 

Above them, the sun was starting to set, and Beverly was thankful that none of the other Losers have decided that it was time to hightail it home, only to see a broken Richie and a tearful Beverly. 

Richie began to pull away, sniffing loudly and letting out a self-conscious laugh. He rubbed his eyes and straighten out the large frames on his face.

“Sorry ‘bout that, but it appears I’ve happened to get your blouse all wet, m’love!” Richie tried to joke, his British accent falling flat. 

Beverly just squeezed his shoulder again. “I think you should tell Stan. Like you mentioned earlier.” 

Richie’s eyes widened, looking that a cartoon in those thick lenses. “Not right now! Coming out once was already draining enough!” 

Beverly rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Obviously not right now. Not unless you’re ready. Not _ until _ you’re ready.” 

Richie’s shoulders relaxed, but only a little bit. He glanced at the door to the clubhouse, like Stan himself was going to pop out and tell them he’s heard every since word of their conversation.

“Maybe,” Richie said, eyebrows furrowed. “But I’m not really sure what the Jews’ stance is on gay people so…” 

“Beep, beep,” Beverly smiled. “You can do it, Rich. I believe in you.” 

Richie brought a hand up over his heart, and the other was thrown daintily across his forehead. “Oh Miss Marsh, I do believe that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to little old me!” 

Beverly laughed and pushed Richie’s shoulder. “Shut it, Tozier, I’m trying to be helpful.”

Richie grinned. “Oh man, Bev, if only I were into girls, ‘cause then you’d definitely be the one for me!” 

“Whatever you say, Trashmouth.” 

Both broke, laughter filling the air around them. The sun was almost completely set by now, the sky a deep orange, with a cotton candy pink tint joining the warm colors.

When the laughter quieted, Richie sighed and walked over to his bike. “Well, it was nice chattin’ with ya ma’am, but got a bedroom window to climb though. Can’t keep my little Spaghetti waiting for me all night long!” 

Beverly laughed, shaking her head as Richie lifted his bike from the dirt. “See ya around, loser,” She called as he ran his bike up the trail that Eddie had walked his bike carefully across earlier.

“Right back at ya!” 

Beverly watched him leave, a fond smile spread across her lips. Soon the clubhouse door would open, and the remaining Losers would all pile out, and the five of them would leave together, making promises to hang out tomorrow at the quarry, or maybe at the movies, they’d talk about it more in the morning over the phone. And Beverly would crawl into bed that night, her aunt just one room over, look around at the boxes that steadily filled her room as she packed up to leave for Portland, and she would think about Richie and the information he trusted her with, about Eddie, who she realized was always looking out for Richie the same way he looked out for Eddie, about how hard it must be for the two of them, in such a close minded town during such a scary time to be a boy who likes boys. 

Beverly would fall asleep that night thinking about how she would do anything for those two boys. She would do anything for them to be happy, happy and safe with each other, never afraid of how cruel the world could be to them, how she would do anything to let them have the happy ending they deserve.

_ Maybe one day, when the world is a nicer place, _ Beverly thought as she drifted off to sleep. Maybe one day, Richie and Eddie would have the chance to love each other freely, without fear. And there would be no mothers who make their children believe they are sick and give them sugar pills and there would be no fathers who take advantage of their daughters and there would be no child-eating clowns and there would be no bigots who hate and hate and hate. 

But Beverly knew that was just wishful thinking. But goddamn, a girl could dream. 

(only her dreams were ever only nightmares, and Beverly woke up later that night in a cold sweat, the memory of Eddie Kaspbrak being impaled still fresh on her mind.) 

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me on [tumblr](https://notphilseyelash.tumblr.com/)


End file.
